


The Call of Death

by avenginginsanity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Master of Death Harry Potter, Minor Character Death, Some Swearing, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), harry and baby teddy, not-really-au-but-some-personal-fanon-stuff?, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-01-04 08:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenginginsanity/pseuds/avenginginsanity
Summary: Harry wakes up after the Battle of Hogwarts feeling different. Suddenly, Harry can feel when someone is dying. The war is over, but now Harry has to deal with stalker-Hallows, rebuilding Hogwarts, and figuring out his future.Follows Harry as he learns what it means to live and not just survive, post-Deathly Hallows, with an added complication of not-your-usual-Hallows-complications. Featuring: Baby Teddy, Supportive Friends, and Ugh Adulthood.





	1. Chapter 1

    Harry woke up the morning after the Final Battle feeling different. Laying on his dorm bed, hearing Ron’s snores and Hermione’s deep breaths was reassuring but something felt off. Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time in months that Harry had woken up in an actual bed, had spent a night in Hogwarts without fearing for his life, but regardless, at this point Harry knew not to disregard his gut feelings, no matter how annoying they were.

    Of course, everything was solved when he sat up and realized the blanket he had snuggled under all night wasn’t, in fact, a blanket. It was the Invisibility Cloak and rolling out of its folds was the Elder Wand and the Stone. Despite the fact that Harry had definitely dropped and crushed the stone in the Forest before the battle. Or, you know, despite having snapped the wand and throwing it off a cliff. Hermione and Ron were there, they could vouch for it. Yet here all three Hallows were, innocently laying across Harry’s body.

    Harry picked them up with a sigh. The moon was high in the sky, the sun nowhere to be seen yet. It was late and he’d just killed the maniac that had haunted his dreams, literally, last night. Sleep now, deal with his crazy life later. But laying back down, the strange feeling that had woken him up in the first place returned. It was like something was calling him, pulling him. At this point, he was too tired to care. But the urge, deep inside, it didn’t stop.

    So he groaned, rolled out of bed, and threw on his shoes. He’d crashed on the bed in borrowed sweater too big for his scrawny, malnourished body, but it’d do for an early morning wander. Not like that’d never happened before in his six years at the castle.

    Quietly making his way out of the room and trying not to wake Ron and Hermione, who had crashed together in the other bed, Harry followed the weird gut feeling that kept tugging and tugging him through the halls. It led him to the Healers Wing, urging him faster and faster.

    Something was wrong. Something was happening-

    “We’re losing her! Her heart is irregular again! Quick, Jones, get Pomphrey, I’m casting the electricity spell again!”

    “On it! Here, Leeks, support. Try to get her breathing regularly-“ Harry walked up to the doorway, looking in on two healers leaning over a woman laying on a cot, pale and tense. Another healer ran past him, the one in search of Madam Pomfrey, he assumed. The feeling seemed to crescendo.

    Oh. Harry walked up to the healers, one focusing on her heart and the another who seemed to be mixing together two elixirs in a panic. He slid in between them and put his hand on her forehead. She seemed to sigh in relief.

    “Her hearts not beating, Leeks, Leeks, support me.” The doctor with his wand hovering over the woman’s heart demanded.

    Harry pulled his hand away, suddenly even more tired. “She’s gone.” The healer looked up, confused.

    “Mr. Potter? What are you doing- Leeks, help, we need to tag team-“

    “Healer. she’s gone. You can’t help her anymore.” Harry said with certainty that came from nowhere. He just… knew.

    “Harry, please move away, we’re working on this patient.”

    Harry shook his head and touched the top of the woman’s head. “No, she’s gone. She left in peace, don’t worry, her parents will be there to meet her. Your efforts are wasted. But the boy three beds over…” Harry’s eyes went unfocused, as the feeling returned, directing him to the boy. His left lung’s failure will result in death in fourteen hours. Do something about that, please.”

    The healer holding the elixirs looked over, cast a detection spell, and promptly cursed. Just then, Pomphrey ran in, followed by the young healer that had been sent to find her. Harry took the hand that was still on the dead woman's head away and backed up. The healer leaning over her ended his spell and leaned back with a deep sigh.

    “The patient has passed. Pomphrey, can you please look over her. I’ll… go check on this lung with Leeks.” The healer gave Harry a strange look as he changed places with Madam Pomfrey, who came over and exhaled loudly at the sight of the woman’s nonexistent vitals. She started rapping her wand against the parchment hanging next to the bed before summoning a quill from across the room. When it reached her she looked up to catch it and simultaneously caught sight of Harry, standing at the head of the bed.

    “Harry, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? I can summon more pain relief potion for the-“

    Harry cut her off, “no, I’m… okay, actually. I think.” He stopped, looking back down at the woman’s body. Pomphrey’s face grew sad. “Harry, her death isn’t your fault, you know that.”

    That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was that Harry had felt as her life left her. He felt her soul pass and he knew. He knew why and how she had died. He knew, as soon as she passed her soul left this plane, who she was, what family she had waiting for her on the other side. The problem was that suddenly, Harry realized he was holding the Hallows in his left hand, the cloak draped over half his body. Which would explain why the healers kept being surprised when the saw him, he supposed.

    “No, Madam Pomfrey, it wasn’t. Jules Ratriek cast a heart disrupting curse at her, and I didn’t see, I wasn’t told, but I know. I know what caused her death and I don’t understand why.” He looked up at her, confused, tired, and honestly so done. “I felt her dying while I was asleep, Madam Pomfrey, and it woke me up and brought me down here.” He looked back down at her face, “her name is Linda Samuelson, she’s twenty-five, and she died of cardiac arrest at 3:43 am.”

    Madam Pomfrey stopped her spell casting to look at Harry, who was looking at his own hands, shaking slightly where he held them in front of him. “Harry, I think you need to go get some more sleep.”

    “Yeah. Yeah… I’ll… do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first fanfiction in about 10 years (don't go searching for anything, they're all on ff.net and terrible. I was in middle school.) This is very much a self-serving fanfiction that I've been slowly writing all year (work gets boring sometimes). It involves a little bit of my own personal fanon ideas and also probably a great deal of general fanon concepts.
> 
> A while ago I read a short story on tumblr about a young woman at a university for magical creatures. All the other students were trying to guess what she was but weren't able to until someone on campus died and she, as a grim reaper, went to take the soul. Now Harry isn't a grim reaper, but parts of that short story influenced this fanfiction. I cannot for the life of me find that short story, please, someone, if you have a link, send it to me!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minerva McGonagall gives some good advice.

Harry spent the next week in Hogwarts. Most of his time was spent hiding from the masses and the media by volunteering himself to fix damaged areas of the castle that were less easily accessible. Hermione joined him a couple of times but she had been recruited by Madam Pince to help clean up the library. Madam Pince was being very particular with who was allowed in the library until it got restored to its previous glory; only Hermione, a seventh year Ravenclaw Harry didn’t know very well, a sixth year Hufflepuff that had been healed three days ago after her run in with a reflected cutting curse to the face, and the current manager of Tomes and Scrolls, Hogsmeade’s bookstore, who volunteered both his time and any books his store sold that the library needed. 

But nine days later, Harry had finished fixing his designated section of the castle up to the best of his abilities. He’d learned quite a few maintenance and construction spells and was quite good at them, even without using the elder wand, which kept appearing in his bed every night while he slept, no matter where he put it or what he did to it.

Carrying his new broom in one hand and an expandable bag of stone in the other, harry walked into the great hall. He left the bag on the former Slytherin table, which was full of building and maintenance supplies, and wandered over to the Ravenclaw table, where McGonagall was meeting with a few people Harry didn’t recognize. 

“-well, traditionally, large wards are built by three individuals, making a triangle. But the strain on each person that does this will be extremely high, because of the area and the strength of the wards. It might knock them out of commission for two weeks. Maybe even a month.” The stranger speaking looked to his companion.

His companion replied, “we could try nine people? They’d still have to be extremely powerful wizards but then those who participate will at least be able to recuperate faster.”

McGonagall nodded slowly, “I can gather as many witches and wizards as you need to create the strongest wards. How long are you thinking this will take?”

The two wizards looked at each other, troubled.

“Well there’s honestly nothing for us to build from. Bill and Gwen have been looking at where the ward scheme was but it was completely destroyed by the Death Eaters. There are very few remnants and what remains is dwindling by day. ” 

The other wizard responded, “We’re basically going to be building them from scratch.”

They both looked excited at the idea, though it was a bitter sweet excitement. 

McGonagall was deep in thought, “I’m surprised there’s no records anywhere. I’ve sent Hermione Granger searching through the library for even the slightest hint of how the old ward scheme was built but she hasn’t had any luck.”

 “It’s not likely there was an extensive description,” one of the wizard’s responded, “but I’d assume somewhere along the lines at least some sort of list of what kind of wards there was is somewhere.”

“I’m also looking for Dumbledore’s portrait,” McGonagall said, “when the Headmaster’s office was destroyed, and all the paintings with it, it appeared his was missing. It’s possible his portrait holds memories of the wards.” McGonagall looked over at Harry, “Thank you for the update, Lane, Alexander, but I have someone else I need to talk to right now,” she smiled softly at Harry.

“Hello professor.”

The two wizards turned around quickly, the one on the left gasping, “Harry Potter?! Wow, hello, nice to meet you, thank you so much for your service. Oh my goddess,” he nudged his companion, a smile on his face. The other man just raised an eyebrow in response.

Harry sighed quietly, “and thank you, sir. Um. I need to talk to Professor McGonagall now, please.”

“Oh! Right, yes sorry, I-” he was swiftly dragged away by the eyebrow man. “Bye Harry, nice to meet you!”

McGonagall smiled softly at Harry, “how are you doing, Harry?” She stood, offering an arm to him, “let’s go talk somewhere else.”

“I’m doing… alright. I guess. Um, the area I was assigned to repair is done. Could you have one of the carpenter wizards check it?”

“Already? My, Harry, it’s not even been two weeks. I thought you were doing it mostly alone, did you get some help like I suggested?”

Harry looked down, hair falling into his eyes a bit. 

    “Harry?”

    “Oh. I… haven’t really been sleeping. So. Um.” Harry hugged his arms to his chest. “It’s been rough. I think, between the three of us, there’s been a nightmare each night. And, um, you know, Professor.” McGonagall sighed, and opened the door to her office. It was no longer the mess it had been last week, but it was still strangely disorganized compared to what Harry always remembered.

    “Yes, I understand. But you need sleep, Harry, you can’t keep avoiding sleeping.” McGonagall pulled out a chair for him, before walking around to her desk, “tea?”

    “Sure. Cream, no sugar, please.” Once the tea was served, McGonagall looked at Harry intently.

    “Harry, I’d like you to be a part of the ward scheme.”

    “Me?”

    “Yes. The chargers need to be powerful wizards who have spent time here, used magic here, and considers Hogwarts their home. I know you don’t agree, but Harry, you are an extremely powerful young wizard. And… you have done far more for this school than any other person. Those sacrifices will only help strengthen your connection to the wards.”

    Harry looked down at his tea cup. “Um.”

    McGonagall leaned forward, “you don’t have to. I know a lot of decisions thus far have been taken from you. But I also know that you consider this castle your home and that is the first requirement for being a ward anchor.”

    “I’ll... I’ll do it I guess.”

    “Thank you, Harry.” McGonagall said. “I know this probably isn’t what you planned on but I highly suggest asking one of the warders for at least a crash course in warding. I’m sure Lane would be absolutely delighted to teach you-”

    “Oh Merlin no.” Harry groaned. “He shook my hand for five minutes. I am not dealing with someone like that more than I have to.”

    McGonagall huffed a slight laugh, handing Harry a tray of biscuits. “Here, eat something. And, you know, Bill Weasley is on the team of warders. You could ask him. He’s more into tearing down wards than building them but he does have a Mastery.”

    Harry took a bite out of his biscuit, thinking, “I have experience in building temporary wards but Hermione put up most of them. It  _ is  _ interesting. Maybe I’ll ask him. At least he won’t stumble over every word when he tries to talk to me.”

    McGonagall smiled, “Good. I think you’d really enjoy it. I know you didn’t take arithmancy but the ancient runes class will have helped you, at least, even if you’re… two years behind, now. And it’s likely to take them a year to finish planning the scheme, anyway.”

    Harry slouched into the chair he was sitting in. “Professor… about that. I… don’t really want to return to classes for my final year. I know Hermione is planning to, but… the idea of returning here and taking classes and seeing-” Harry couldn’t finish his sentence but McGonagall didn’t seem to mind. She put her hand on his arm gently, prompting him to look up at her, “Honestly, Professor, I didn’t ever expect to live this long. Even as- even as a kid, I never planned ahead. It’s always been- just- I had to survive the next day. ‘Don’t upset my uncle, make sure to find food, don’t do better than my cousin, keep away from his friends. And even when I got here, and thought, maybe I do have a chance- I- I don’t think I ever realized, Professor, but I’m not sure I know how to live. I only know how to survive.”

    “Oh, Harry,” McGonagall whispered, moving off her chair to kneel down next to him. “Hogwarts will always be here, will always be your home if you want it. But you don’t need to return. I’d understand if you don’t. Take your time. Think about what you want to do.”

    “It’s just. It’s hard. And- and I miss Dora and Remus. They’d know what to do.”

    “I want you to take a break for a week, Harry. Think about what you want to do next. Contact Bill, ask if he’d give you some training on wards if that’s what you’re interested in. But don’t do anything you really don’t want to do. If you decide to return to Hogwarts, I’ll help you in anyway I can. If you don’t, I will be sad, I admit, but you need to do what feels right for you.” McGonagall got up and sat back down in her chair. “Now, as an educator, I have to highly suggest taking your NEWTS. At least trying to get four of them. But you can do self study, take as much time as you need. I’ll help you figure that out if that’s what you want. We can find you tutors. If you want to come in for some of the classes, even if you aren’t a full time student, I’m sure we could figure out something for you.”

    Harry nodded, deep in thought. “Thank you, Professor.”

    “And, Harry,” McGonagall added, “I think at this point you can call me Minerva.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always liked the idea that after one year of divination Harry dropped the class and took Ancient Runes instead. Mostly because I’m personally fascinated by runes but also because he never seemed to enjoy divination and I think Hermione might have been able to convince him to take something else. Also. Runes! But anyway, he's behind his age-mates in runes cause he started a year late and also spent... a year on the run... so...
> 
> Another thing. There is, like, no information on warding. A lot of fanon stuff will probably end up in here, because of that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A funeral. A baby. A meeting.

Two days later was Remus and Tonk’s funeral. It was a somber day, but the sun shone brightly out from behind a light cloud covering. Harry sat in the front row, Hermione to one side, and Andromeda to his other, baby Teddy in her arms. Teddy was so small, so precious. He couldn’t help but keep looking at his tiny little hands and his thick, dark hair.

He was an orphan now, too. Harry suddenly had to look away. Hermione, sitting next to him, felt the movement and squeezed his arm comfortingly.

The service continued on.

After words had been said, tears released, and the bodies buried, Harry stood at the two graves. An area South of Hogwarts, between the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade, was dedicated as a graveyard for those who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. It was technically part of the Hogsmeade graveyard, but inside the Hogwarts wards. It was where Dumbledore’s grave had been placed, and everyone agreed that those who sacrificed their lives at the end of the war would be buried there.

There were too many graves there, already. And even more plaques for those who had died in the war but weren’t to be buried there, including Colin Creevey.

Eventually it was only Harry standing there. Everyone else wandered away, went home, or travelled up to the castle. Suddenly, Harry started crying.

Everyone assumed it was mostly Remus that Harry was here for, but the past few years Harry had gotten closer to Tonks, as well. It had started with questions about Metamorphmaguses. Harry had told her how he never, ever, got haircuts, yet his hair had never grown any longer. And, that the one or two times his hair was cut as a child, it immediately grew back overnight.

“If it was just the growing back thing, I’d think it was just accidental magic. But… you’ve never gotten a haircut since then?”

Harry shrugged, “yeah, it’s been this long since I started Hogwarts, at least. I think it grew a bit my first year, maybe.”

Tonks looked at him. “And what about your nails. Do you need to cut your finger or toe nails?”

Harry blinked, looking down at his fingernails. “No? Wait. Nails are supposed to grow? Is that how girls get such long nails?”

Tonks started laughing uproariously, “Merlin, Harry, you’re such a boy. Yes, nails are supposed to grow.” She leaned forward and showed him her nail, then made it grow longer.

“But… mine don’t. Is there something wrong with me?” Harry said.

Tonks’s face turned thoughtful. “Well, I’m pretty sure we’d already know if you were a Metamorphmagus, but wait. Tomorrow I have a book I’ll bring you.”

It turned out that Harry was a very minor form of a Metamorphmagus. There are different levels, a full-metamorph, like Tonks, was very rare. But minor-metamorphs, like Harry, were much more common. Actually, there’s theories that every wizard should be able to change their appearance and that some are simply better at it or more attuned to specific parts of themselves than others. Harry couldn’t change his hair or eye color, or grow crazy noses, but things on his body that already grow naturally, like hair and nails, he could grow and stop growing at will.

Tonks and Harry had spent a lot of time after that day trying to teach Harry how to work this new magic of his. It was… difficult. Harry had hopes that one day he could stimulate his height, since technically that’s something natural, but now Tonks was gone. He’d have to do it alone.

Their relationship was one of brother and sisterhood. While Harry had plenty of brother-figures in the Weasleys, since both Harry and Tonks had been raised alone they filled the role of sibling for each other easily. And, well, they both knew the less than pleasant experience of being stared at, made fun of, or followed around for things they really didn’t choose. Harry, his fame, and Tonks, her metamorphmagus changes; they really understood each other.

And Harry asked her questions he didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone else. There were some things that people just assumed he knew. Things like sex and puberty and what bisexual was. She even taught him some random things he didn’t understand having been raised by muggles, like clothing mending spells. And, when he said he might want to be an Auror, like her, she taught him some… less school-appropriate spells and tips she’d learned in the corps.

When he mentioned needing to learn occlumency, and the questionable lessons he had received from Snape, well... she was pissed. Tonks immediately searched down and gave Harry every book she could find on occlumency- the one the Auror corps used, but also one Mad Eye Moody had given her when she needed to take the occlumency exam, and the one her mum had given her as a child before going to Hogwarts. Andromeda might have been disowned, but she was still a daughter raised in the Black Family. There were a couple different, less light, things that Andromeda had taught Tonks and Tonks had then taught Harry.

When Tonks and Remus started dating, Harry had spent less time with her. And now, they were both dead. Harry would spend no time with either of them.

“Hello, Harry,” a voice said from behind him. Harry whirled around to face it, wiping the tears out of his eyes. Andromeda Tonks was standing there, a sleeping Teddy in her arms.

“Hi… Mrs. Tonks.” Harry said, unusually shy. Then he looked at the bundle in her arms, “and hello, little Teddy.”

Mrs. Tonks looked at him sternly and opened her mouth to speak, but Harry had eyes only for the little one she was holding. He looked up at Mrs. Tonks and asked “may I hold him, please?”

She looked down at the bundle before deciding, “yes.” Harry carefully took Teddy into his arms, trying not to wake him. The baby didn’t even snuffle.

“Hi, Teddy, I’m your godfather.” Harry whispered in awe. Teddy opened his eyes, blinking, before waving one of his little arms.

Harry smiled softly, offering his finger to Teddy, who grabbed it and brought it to his mouth like he wanted to eat it. Harry pulled his finger back but kept it in the baby’s surprisingly strong grasp. Teddy kept watching with his big brown eyes, and as he did, they start to turn green.

“Just like your mum, then, huh Teddy?” Andromeda, from a foot away, starts silently crying. Harry looked up at her with concern.

“That's the first time he's morphed. I thought… I thought maybe he hadn't…” Harry looked down at little Teddy, who's hair was the same dark brown color that both Harry and Andromeda shared, but who's eyes now matched Harry’s perfectly.

“He looked just like you, though, Mrs. Tonks.” Andromeda looked down at the happy baby with a watery smile.

“I guess. Nymphadora’s hair changed with her emotions from a young age. We had so much trouble in the muggle world… I just…”

“He might be a mimic instead of a full-blow metamorphmagus if this is the only change he makes. Or maybe he’s a color-metamorph, and will be able to change the color of his body parts even if he can’t change the shape. Most metamorph abilities show up within the first year or so of life, so there’s still time, if…” Harry stopped sheepishly. “Oh. Uh, you probably already know all of this. Um.”

Mrs. Black looked at Harry with one eyebrow raised. “I do, though I admit I’ve forgotten much of it. You seem to be quite knowledgeable as well, however.”

Harry looked back down at Teddy, who was waving the one little fist holding his finger, while sucking on his other hand. “Dora taught me a lot. Um.” Looking around to make sure there wasn’t anyone around, Harry allowed his hair to grow longer, before shortening it again. “She helped me out with my own abilities. I can only change the length of my hair and nails, at least that’s all we ever found out before… well…” He looked Mrs. Tonks in the eyes. “Dora taught me a lot, really, things that no one else seemed to realize I might need to be taught. I would be honored to teach those things to Teddy, if you’d allow me. I know you have custody of my godson, I won’t fight you for that. I don’t think I’m ready or… in the right mindset to raise him. But.” Harry took a deep breath, looking at the tiny body he held, “I’d like to be in his life. I… I know what it’s like to grow up without family. I didn’t get to meet Sirius until I was older and I only had him for a few years. I don’t want Teddy to experience what I did.” Harry looked up at Mrs. Tonks, “not that I think you’d be anything like my guardians as a child. But… I didn’t have much family. I don’t have any family, really.”

Mrs. Tonks look at Harry, seemingly analyzing him. “I got your letter. I’d like to meet with you for tea next Tuesday. I’ll bring Teddy with me, he needs to get out more anyway.”

Harry gently handed Teddy back to his grandmother. “Ok. I would like that. Where would you like to meet?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warding 101 with Bill Weasley.

Two days later, Harry sent a letter to Bill. He’d owled the oldest Weasley, figuring it was best he be formal about asking for tutoring. Bill, apparently, disagreed, as he immediately responded with:

‘Harry, we’re both staying in the castle, you could just come ask in person. Of course I’ll teach you about warding! I heard you were a candidate for charger. Fleur and I are in the Ravenclaw wing, that’s where most of the warders are staying. If you know where that is, feel free to stop by after dinner one day.’

So the next day Harry headed to the Ravenclaw common room. The gargoyle that usually blocked the entrance was missing and while everything was clean and clear of debris, upon further examination it was obvious that at some point a blast took out a chunk of the wall, including the gargoyle. The door opened easily for Harry, no riddle to block his way.

Walking inside, Harry suddenly regretted leaving the invisibility cloak on his bed. Lane was at a table covered in scrolls and jumped up immediately upon seeing Harry enter.

“Mr. Potter! Hello! Can I help you?” Lane asked, sounding more like a first year than a graduated Ward Master.

“Hello, Lane,” Harry replied with a sigh, “is Bill Weasley in here somewhere?”

Lane looked a little downcast as he grabbed a paper and scribbled down something on it, “I’m not sure, let me send him a note,” the paper folded into a little square with a tap of his wand and flew away up one of the staircases.

“What’s that spell?” Harry asked.

“Oh! It’s what they use in the ministry to send documents to other departments. I just think it’s useful and easier than an owl if the person you’re contacting is in the same building as you. Uh, if you’d like, I could teach it to you? It’s pretty easy- it was invented in china, actually, centuries ago. I like to switch up the shape the paper folds into, but traditionally it’s a little glider that is used-”

Thankfully, Bill came down the staircase at that moment. “Hey, Harry,” He said with a small smile. He seemed to notice how awkward Harry looked next to Lane, and inconspicuously rolled his eyes. “Want to take a walk while we talk? I feel like I’ve been holed up in here and could use some fresh air.”

Harry nodded, “sounds good, I guess. How’s Fleur?” he asked as Bill took the lead out of the common room. “I haven’t seen either of you recently.”

“She’s been doing as well as can be expected. Busy. Tired. Neither of us have had much sleep. Nightmares, you know.”

Harry stared mindlessly ahead of them. “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s been difficult. But, anyway, wards! My specialty!”

“I thought your specialty was breaking curses.” Harry wondered out loud.

    Bill laughed quietly, “well, that’s technically what my job is. I specialize in breaking wards and curses. But you can’t break something like that without having an idea of how to build it. My Mastery is in Warding, I just prefer the more… exciting stuff, you could say.”

    “Ah. So, McGonagall asked if I would help charge the wards. She suggested I ask someone to teach me a little bit about it, said it would help me if I had an understanding of how it works.” Bill nodded in understanding. “And,” Harry added, “I think she’s trying to get me to do something other than mope about. But, I mean, I’m not uninterested. I figure I can go along with what she asked of me for now.”

    “Want to get on her good side, eh?” Bill asked with a wink.

    Harry frowned. “Kinda.” He looked at Bill consideringly. “I… I’m not planning to finish my last year here.”

    Bill didn’t seem at all surprised.

    “I might self-study. Or something. It’s not that I don’t want to finish school just…”

    “Not here, with the memories and the people fawning over you?” Bill asked.

    Harry nodded. They walked together in silence for a bit, before Bill led them out the doors of the castle and onto the grounds. “I’m gonna take you to the edge of the wards for this first lesson. I want to teach you how to feel them.”

    “Like the tingle that happens when you pass onto Hogwarts grounds?” Harry asked.

    “Exactly. Hogwarts has… had some of the strongest wards in British history. Most mature wizards can feel them. It’s lesser wards that I’ll really need to train you in feeling. As well as feeling a ward before you cross it.” They walked a little longer, as Bill explained the basics. “The stronger the ward, the more magic that went into it. It’s the magic that you’re feeling. Some people can train themselves to read intention from magic- I had a mentor during my mastery that could do this. He could only feel static magical intent, like on cursed objects or stationary ward schemes. Some people, if they’re good enough, can feel intent even on moving spells.”

    They reached about where Harry knew the old wards had stood. “So,” Bill said, “the wards are fairly close to us. I’d like you to try to pinpoint them without crossing outside of them.”

    Harry studied the air in front of him. There wasn’t anything visibly different. He couldn’t hear anything, either. “Will it feel similar to the effect of passing through them?”

    “Mmm, yes? It’ll have that same sort of buzz. It’s such a weird feeling to describe, I think you really just need to experience it.” Bill explained.

    “Very helpful, Bill.” Harry groused. Bill laughed with a shrug.

    “It’s true. You’ll have to experience a few times before you really get it. These wards,” he gestured to the air in front of them, “are moderately strong. They’ll be pretty easy to notice. Most public wizarding establishments don’t bother with hiding wards. Everyone knows they’re there. I’m not sure if you noticed, but Grimmauld Place was similar. Years of wards built on each other are pretty obvious, if you know what to look for. It’s when there’s just a few wards, or when the builder purposely hid them, that really takes training. But anyway, come on. Where are the wards?”

    Harry looked in front of them. Nothing seemed to indicate a ward. He took a step forward, ignoring Bill’s gaze. There was nothing there. Nothing- but- Harry closed his eyes. There was a weird charge to the air. He slowly raised his hand in front of himself. The buzz got stronger. It was like static shock, little tingles that he barely barely felt. Harry opened his eyes again.

    “I can feel the static a bit here.” Harry said, closing his eyes again, feeling out for the wards. “It’s…” He took another half a step forward. The feeling seemed to strengthen, and when he pushed just a little more it almost felt solid. “Here. It’s like something is stopping my hand.” Harry opened his eyes to look at where his hand was held. There was nothing there.

“Great job! Yeah, these temporary wards are some of the strongest that could be thrown up quickly and without a proper schema. It’s not surprising you were able to feel them so well.” Bill walked over, putting his hand up to where Harry’s was. “Ok, I want to walk through and do the same from the other side. There’s been no sign of trouble recently but get your wand out and keep your guard up just in case.”

Harry pulled his wand out, Bill copying him with a flourish. Stepping through the wards tingled. It wasn’t as strong as Harry was used to but he felt the protectiveness he associated with Hogwarts just the same.

Bill led him a little way out passed the wards, then had them walking toward the forest a little. As they walked, Bill explained a bit about how different ward schemes usually feel and the differences between feeling a ward from the inside versus the outside. Harry listened intently but also kept a very paranoid eye out for danger. His paranoia was the only reason he even noticed the shadows moving in the forest. As Bill talked about what a protective ward usually felt like, a shadow separated from the rest, moving toward them. It stopped only a couple feet from the forest, just far enough to be out of the darkness and easily identifiable as a dementor. Harry quickly jerked up his wand, the patronus charm on the tip of his tongue, when the figured shook its head ‘no’ and bowed deeply. It looked Harry directly in the eyes, then gestured in a ‘come here’ way, before bowing again.

Weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda making the warding shit up as I go...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Harry thinks his life can't get any weirder. Then life proves him wrong.

Harry had forgotten about the incident with the dementor until later, after he’d eaten dinner. It was curious- he’d never seen a dementor in any kind of submissive position. Or, you know, have any sort of self control at all. Well, in regards to him, at least.

So, in a stupid move that was likely to get him yelled at, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak, the elder wand, and a witch light, and carried them out with him as he investigated. The moment he reached the edge of the wards near where he’d seen the dementor, it appeared again. This time, it floated closer, stopping a handful of steps from the edge of the ward.

“Ha...arry… Po...tter…” the dementor half-rattled, half-moaned in an inhuman cacophony of sounds. “I… am… ... Ski...tos.” Each word was tortuously drawn out. “Have… rep… ar...a...tion… and… re...que...st.” The dementor bowed deeply, then slowly ripped off the very edge of its cloak. It breathed out weird grey smoke onto the piece of fabric before setting it on the ground, inches from the ward line. It then bowed again. “My… word… you… have… no… ha….rm.” It backed away several feet, its head remaining bowed.

What. The. Fuck? Well, Harry wasn’t exactly known for patience or intelligent decisions. So, he held up his holly want in his right hand, the elder wand comfortable in his pocket just in case, and stepped out of the wards. He kept eye contact with what he thought was the dementor’s eyes as he cast a basic intent spell on the strip of fabric. It was definitely heavily magical but there was no bad intent that he could pick up. So… he gently grabbed the weird gift from where it lay.

The fabric was about an inch in width and perhaps a foot in length. The material was not black, like he expected, but a dark grey loosely threaded piece of cloth. The moment he picked it up, the dementor across from him sighed.

“Thank you for your trust, Harry Potter.” The dementor said, suddenly speaking in full sentences. “This will allow you to understand me as I speak in my own language.” It added. Harry realized the dementor’s words sounded somewhat like what parseltongue did to him- like English, but with something just a little different behind it.

“I had originally just wanted to make a request and offer a reparation but now I realize that… you are different from before.” The dementor cocked its head, as if it was trying to analyze Harry deeper. “This is not the first time we meet, wizard, though perhaps you did not know? Regardless, you are different now than before. Your soul is no longer double… twisted… unnatural.”

Harry blinked in shock, “excuse me?”

“Your unnatural soul. You used to have two souls. Unnatural. No one being should have two souls.” The dementor bowed its head slightly, shaking it from side to side. “That is against the order of life and death. Last I met you I tried to fix you but didn’t have the chance. It was on the fast moving wizard thing. I saw your two souls. I tried to fix it. You are fixed now. What did you do to your soul? I’d always wanted to know since that time I saw you.”

Harry gaped in shock. “What?” Then he squinted. “My soul- it was not me that did it.” The dementor made a sound of disagreement but Harry continued on. “It was, ironically perhaps, your precious Voldemort.”

“Not precious. He lost. He broke his promise.”

“Well it was his soul that… when I was a baby, he tried to kill me. He’d broken pieces of his soul off before. When he tried to kill me that night, he failed and accidently broke another piece off and it connected itself to me.”

“He…” the dementor seemed shocked, if a dementor could even feel shock. “Voldemort broke his own soul? What kind of unnatural monster messes with his own soul? But now that double soul is gone. Is it because you killed him?”

Harry laughed hollowly. “Ah, no, Voldemort himself killed that piece of his soul. When he cast the killing curse at me that night of the battle.”

The dementor chuckled lowly, a creepy chuckle that seemed to amplify the cold of the night air. Harry shivered.

“Well,” said the dementor, “my offer of reparation to you seems… lacking now. But, I think perhaps I have another gift to give you. May I have that fabric for one moment?” Harry cautiously set the fabric down on the ground and backed away, letting the dementor pick it up. It did so, then breathed out again, this time releasing an almost silvery cloud of smoke into the fabric. This time when the dementor put the fabric on the ground it had a silvery metallic sheen to it.

The dementor waited for Harry picked it up again before saying “tie that around your wrist. It will protect you from any nearby dementor’s effects. It will not protect you from a kiss, should one of my brethren decide to attack you, but you will no longer feel the cold or despair that surrounds us. It should also protect against other similar magics but I can’t promise you that.”

Harry looked at the dementor in shock, “Why? Why give this to me?”

“It is reparation. We chose the losing side.” Harry was uncertain but tied it around his wrist anyway. Suddenly the deep chill that had sunken into his bones vanished. His brain felt less cloudy. He felt the very slight tinge of darkness erase itself from his mind.

“Wow.”

“That is not the only reason I bestow this upon you,” the dementor said. “There are still two of our dead beyond your wards. We cannot reach them. Please, I request you bring them beyond your ward so that we may give them proper death rites.”

Harry was surprised. “I didn’t realize any dementors had died. Or… that you could. I, um, I can certainly try to find them and remove them from the wards. Where can I find them?”

The dementor explained that they had gathered the dead in one area not too far into the Forbidden Forest. It was a simple task for Harry to levitate their corpses across the ward boundary. Dead or not, there was no chance he was touching a dementor with his own hand.

The gift-giving dementor bowed shallowly to Harry before floating off into the night, the bodies of his brethren floating behind. Sometimes, Harry thinks his life can't get any weirder. Then life proves him wrong.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some world building type stuff. Dementors as an actual, like, cognizant species interests me. There's a lot we could explore, there... if I feel like it.


End file.
